Lynx to the Pharaoh

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Lynx to the Pharaoh Page 7

by Shelley Munro


  Justin peered cautiously at a rock before he moved it out of his way. “And everywhere we go those damn snakes seem to follow us. I’ve seen four today, and I don’t like them.”

  Sethmet hid his amusement by concentrating on the crumbling pillars of the old temple. Of course he was taking them in circles, but now was not the time to confess. “I gave you a list of sites in the area. You decided which ones you wanted to explore.” He paused, letting his merriment show. “My apologies, but I can’t help the appearance of vipers. They come and go as they please. They’re always a danger in the desert and many people die each year. You’re lucky we haven’t stumbled across any cobra yet.”

  “I don’t know why we bothered with a guide.” Red dust covered Justin’s white shirt and black trousers and sweat trickled down his face. “Where is the pickax I put down a few minutes ago? I put it right there. Who took it?” Justin stomped around the vicinity, questioning every worker. No one had seen the pickax, and Sethmet presumed the pharaoh had spirited it away because he’d seen Justin lean it against the rocks. The tool wasn’t there now.

  Sethmet thought Justin had caught too much sun despite the top hat the man insisted on wearing. With his bright red cheeks and glittering eyes he appeared crazed. William, on the other hand, looked like a desperate man. Sethmet thought the cat would do a little eavesdropping tonight before he met Charlotte. As always, his loins tightened at the thought of joining with Charlotte. They spent as many nights together as they could manage without raising suspicion, and the Englishwoman was becoming important to him. Sethmet didn’t know if he’d be able to let her leave Patria.

  William stomped away, picked up a stone and tossed it at the end column. It smashed against a frieze of Egyptian gods decorating the columns and bounced off to hit a servant. William ignored the servant’s pained cry and picked up another stone. “Nothing! There’s fuckin’ nothing here except empty ruins.”

  “Take care where you’re aiming.” Sethmet clenched his fists and glared at William, allowing the Englishman to see his anger.

  Charlotte stepped between them. “It’s getting late, and we’re all tired. I’m ready to go back to camp.” She sent her stepbrother a measured glance and strode across the stony ground to where her camel waited.

  Amusement replaced Sethmet’s fury while the two Englishmen started to mutter between themselves. Finally, they stomped over to their camels.

  Sethmet followed more slowly, his mind on Charlotte. Every time he’d tried to speak to her during the last two days either William or Justin had interrupted. Sethmet intended to meet up with her tonight—one way or the other.

  * * * * *

  Charlotte retired to her tent earlier than normal to escape Justin’s pointed attentions. No matter how politely she rebuffed him, he kept forcing his company on her. In the end she had to leave before she bit off the tip of her tongue.

  She stripped off most of her clothing and lay on her pallet. Night approached, leeching the heat from the air and leaving blissful coolness. It was still too early to meet with Sethmet. Charlotte sighed and closed her eyes, thinking of the caracal. She hadn’t seen it lately but sometimes, in the morning, there were paw prints near her tent like the ones they’d found after spending the night in the valley. Instinctively, she scuffed them out so no one else would see and start whispering about the curse. Her little secret. It thrilled her to know the cat watched over her.

  “My good luck charm,” she whispered, not feeling frightened in the slightest.

  Charlotte picked up a pillow and hugged it to her chest. She wished it were Sethmet she held in her arms. An intolerable ache only he could quench burned strongly within her. She stirred restlessly, rubbing her thighs together and clenching her vaginal walls tight. The sweet throb only intensified. She’d have to wait for Sethmet. She closed her eyes, and instead of picturing woolly sheep like her nanny had suggested, she imagined graceful caracals. Charlotte started counting, her eyes growing heavy…

  The night air chilled Charlotte, but her thick coat kept the worst of the frigid air at bay. Sand tickled beneath her paws. A soft cough alerted her to the presence of another.

  She turned, flicking her ears and scenting the breeze for signs of danger. She relaxed when a larger cat padded up to her and affectionately nuzzled her neck. Pleasure rippled through her body. The caracal nudged her sharply, leaped forward then halted to look back expectantly. Her ears twitched, and she bounded after the male. The wind whistled through her fur, the scents of the oasis registering before she gave in to the sheer pleasure of running free.

  “Charlotte.”

  The loud whisper intruded on her joyous scamper along the sand.

  “Charlotte.”

  A hand traced down her cheek. Charlotte’s eyes flew open. A dark shadow loomed over her. She opened her mouth to scream but a hand across her lips contained the sound.

  “Shush. It’s me.”

  “Sethmet?”

  “Were you expecting someone else?”

  “Of course not. What if someone sees you? I thought we were meeting at the cottage.”

  “Fret not, sweetheart. Everyone is asleep.” Sethmet lifted her face for his kiss.

  One taste of his seductive mouth and every thought of protest faded. “Besides,” he said slyly, “the idea of discovery—of being discovered brings a thrill all of its own.”

  “You don’t need to worry about your reputation.” Charlotte tried to sound stern and failed dismally. The wretched man was right. The risk of exposure had her hot and bothered and throbbing for his possession.

  “We can go to the cottage if you wish, but why waste time?”

  In the inky blackness of the tent, Charlotte couldn’t see a thing. She wished it was light enough to see his face, to see his expression and if his mouth and eyes matched the humor of his voice. He wasn’t a man who smiled a lot, but when he did, it was compelling.

  “You still have your stays on.” Nimble fingers skimmed down her side to cup her bottom and pull her flush with his body—his erection. “And your drawers.”

  “You have more clothes on than me,” Charlotte pointed out, even though she couldn’t see to confirm.

  Sethmet stood and moved away from her. Instantly, Charlotte wanted to recall her words and draw him closer.

  The rustle of clothing sounded. Charlotte bit her lip, her heart jumping with acute expectation. Her hands went to the laces on her stays.

  “No, let me,” he murmured. “I like to undress you.”

  Charlotte’s heart beat even faster. In the last weeks she’d become addicted to waking up with a warm, naked body curled around her smaller frame. And when they weren’t sleeping—well, she’d become obsessed with making love with Sethmet as well.

  The thought made her pause. Returning to London and slotting into the old routines would present difficulties. Her spirit rebelled at the idea of forcing herself into the old mold she used to inhabit. Yet, there was no alternative. Charlotte knew that too.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I was thinking about going home,” Charlotte confessed.

  “You want to go home?”

  Charlotte hugged Sethmet fiercely then pulled away to lay her cheek against his naked chest. “Of course I don’t! I love the freedom I have here. I like being independent and answering to no one.” Charlotte paused, wrinkling her brow. That wasn’t quite true.

  George had left William as executor of his estate. Whenever she wanted money, she had to obtain it from her stepbrother. And then there was the fact he wanted her to cultivate Justin’s friendship. In truth, the freedom and independence she had at the moment was just an illusion. “In fact, I like it so much in Egypt I dreamed I was a caracal running across the sand. Isn’t that strange?”

  He froze, his fingers tightening to the point of pain on her upper arms. “A caracal?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t care if he thought her strange.

  “That sounds like a wonderful dream,” he said finally. “I
t means Egypt has grown under your skin.”

  Charlotte didn’t think that was it at all. It was Sethmet who had grown under her skin, seducing her with his loving and smiles.

  He kissed her hard, and she knew instantly this would be a swift loving. The thought excited her. He swept off the last of her garments and touched her between the legs, giving a grunt of masculine approval at her readiness for him.

  “On your hands and knees,” he ordered.

  Charlotte followed his orders automatically, trusting him implicitly. George had taken her this way. It had made her feel used and dirty, like an animal. With Sethmet, she felt intrigued. She shivered slightly while she waited for him. The sleeping blankets rustled faintly when he moved behind her. Charlotte felt his heat first then the roughness of his palms when he smoothed them over her flanks. He kissed her buttocks, taking small nibbles from her. His touch made her giggle.

  “Hush,” he whispered. “We mustn’t attract attention.”

  Knowing he was right, she bit down on her bottom lip to maintain silence.

  Sethmet cupped her heat with one hand and reached for a breast, the twin sensations bringing a sigh of pleasure. He’d slowed the pace, and while she enjoyed his touches, she desperately needed his cock filling her to assuage the ache inside her body.

  “Sethmet,” she pleaded. “Please. I need you now.”

  His hand dropped away from her breast, his weight shifting, then she felt the stretching as he pushed into her quim. A sigh escaped as she enjoyed his invasion, her belly muscles tensing for an instant and wringing an answering cry of pleasure from him.

  Once his cock was fully seated, he leaned over and kissed the space between her shoulder blades, kneading the soft flesh of a breast with his hand.

  “I love the way you feel when I’m deep inside you,” he whispered next to her ear. “A man could die happy feeling surrounded like this.”

  “Yes.” She could die happy with him inside her. She would hate leaving him.

  He started to move with hard, digging strokes. His finger slid across her clit, teasing and pushing her high. Lust lanced through her body, and she pushed into him, inviting his hard flesh to invade her. His thrusts grew swifter. He groaned and froze, embedded deep in her body. She felt his pulsing as his seed spurted into her.

  “Sorry, sweetheart.”

  “What for?”

  “For not giving you pleasure.” He pulled free, and she turned to face him.

  “That’s not true. You have given me more pleasure than I’ve ever had in my life.” And sweet memories. Lots of wonderful memories.

  “Come here,” he whispered gruffly. He kissed her slowly, their lips lingering while his hands wandered her body. Her breasts. Her hips. Her belly. And finally between her legs. His fingers whispered across the hard nub of her clit. Slowly, he built her pleasure until she writhed in his arms, exploding with erotic fury.

  Oh yes. She had pleasure. Indescribable pleasure. If only time would slow…

  Chapter Six

  “Didn’t you sleep well last night? You look like a mouse dragged in by the housekeeper’s cat.” William’s intense eyes seemed to pierce right through her. Charlotte fought to keep her composure. He couldn’t know about her and Sethmet. And she wasn’t surprised she looked tired given the little sleep they’d had the previous night.

  “I’m fine,” Charlotte said. No, he seemed preoccupied. It was something else troubling him. She glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone stood within hearing range.

  A servant stoked the fire while another prepared bread rounds to cook on the hot embers. Justin sat on a chair outside his tent while his valet shaved him. In the distance, a camel called. No doubt, the camels were on their way from the oasis, ready for the day’s expedition.

  “Justin has asked me for your hand in marriage and I’ve accepted.” William’s blunt words hung in the air between them. They stared at each other. “Did you hear me?”

  “I am not marrying Justin.” The idea of the man touching her intimately sent a shiver of distaste surging through her body. Charlotte folded her arms across her chest in a protective manner. “I refuse.”

  William pulled a face and placed a hand on her shoulder. “At least think about it. Help me out.”

  “William, I don’t want to marry again.” Charlotte met and held her stepbrother’s gaze, trying to make him understand. “Not straight away. I went from the schoolroom to marriage with no time in between. I want to enjoy my independence, and with the inheritance George left me, I have that luxury.”

  William glanced away, and Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. Was that guilt she’d seen? “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “There’s no money left.”

  Something in his tone raised alarm. “What…what are you talking about?” One look at his stark face made her breath catch. “What have you done?”

  William nailed her with a glare. “You will marry Justin as soon as we return to England. The arrangements are made, and I expect you to act civilly to him. He’s a friend and soon he’ll be a member of the family.” And before Charlotte had a chance to refute his orders, William stalked off.

  “William, wait!” Servants looked up from their tasks to stare, but Charlotte didn’t care. She chased after her stepbrother and grabbed him by the forearm. “Stop. You can’t order me to marry Justin and walk off without explanations.”

  “You want explanations. Fine. I’ll give you explanations. I have debts—debts that need paying.”

  Gaming debts, according to London gossip. Charlotte eyed William uneasily. She’d thought he’d stopped gambling. Evidently not. “Use my money to pay them off. You’re welcome to it. My wants are simple. I don’t need much.”

  William’s laugh raised the hairs at the back of her neck. Not amused and with a shade of bitterness, it sent her stomach swooping with fear.

  “What have you done?” she whispered.

  “Your money has gone. Every penny.”

  “The house in London. The…land in Kent?” Growing horror brought a stammer to her voice. It couldn’t be as bad as it sounded. It couldn’t.

  “Mortgaged to the hilt,” William confirmed. Not a trace of remorse showed on his pale face. His eyes were unrepentant. “If only we could find the pharaoh’s treasure.”

  “You could have told me.”

  “You couldn’t have done anything,” he pointed out cruelly. “George gave me authority over you and your assets. I used them as I saw fit.”

  Charlotte’s legs trembled so much she knew she had to sit before she fell.

  Somehow, she found herself over in the area of the campsite they used to dine. The canvas shade flapped in the gentle breeze. Charlotte stepped under the shade and fell onto a wooden chair. Without money she was powerless, dependent on her stepbrother’s largesse. Charlotte shot a resentful glare at William. He’d manipulated and used her to further his own means. Even though he’d confirmed he searched for treasure, she hadn’t believed he was an unscrupulous tomb robber who removed every piece of value from the dead, leaving nothing to comfort them in the afterworld. The scientific papers he’d spoken of were probably fiction too. Either that or he stole them.

  Tears formed at the back of her eyes and a lump of regret and intense sorrow threatened to close up her throat. Independence for Charlotte Webster was nothing but a dream now. She’d have to marry—it was either that or starve.

  William stormed over to join her. He sat opposite and gestured for a servant to pour tea for both of them. When the servant left, he quirked a brow at her in silent mockery. If William expected her to follow blindly wherever he led, he was in for a shock.

  A sudden thought occurred, and she turned her narrowed eyes on him. “If I refuse to marry Justin what happens?”

  “Ah, my dear.” William reached across the table to grip her chin with a cruel pinch of fingers. “But you will marry Justin. I’ve given my word, and a man’s word is sacrosanct.”

  Charlotte jerked f
rom his touch, the burn of temper fuelling her determination. Somehow she had to resist her stepbrother’s efforts to tie her to Lord Banning. “The camels have arrived for today’s expedition.” When in doubt change the subject. Besides, she needed time to think, time to plan.

  “This discussion is not over,” William warned.

  “I’m a widow capable of making my own decisions.” Charlotte didn’t wait for his reply but rose and made a dignified exit, trying to ignore the wave of helplessness threatening to swamp her.

  Sethmet appeared from behind the supply tent. “What’s wrong?”

  Embarrassing tears flooded her eyes. She wiped them away angrily and wondered why nothing was ever easy. “Nothing,” she murmured. “I’m looking forward to today’s sightseeing. I’m almost ready. I just need to collect my hat and drawing materials.”

  Charlotte turned away before Sethmet could comment on her distress. Her attempts to hide her emotions in the English way had failed dismally. Tears started to fall in earnest.

  She quickened her pace. The irony of the situation didn’t escape her, especially since she’d been congratulating herself on her independence. In one strike, every scrap of freedom she’d possessed had disappeared.

  “Charlotte, what is it?” Sethmet curled his hand around her upper arm and dug in his heels to stop her retreat. Gently, he turned her to face him, his face a picture of concern. “Let me help you.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “I…I’ve had some bad news,” she murmured finally. Although she treasured the time she spent with Sethmet, she’d known it had to end. Charlotte had to stand alone—there was no one else to rely on. “There’s nothing anyone can do to help.”

  “You there!”

  The fury in William’s voice made Charlotte jump.

  “Our equipment tent has been broken into. Summon all the servants. I want to question them.”

  “We’ll talk later.” Sethmet inclined his head and stalked off to arrange an immediate meeting. He resisted the urge to comfort Charlotte. Something had happened. He’d seen her talking with her stepbrother and suspected William had upset her. It didn’t surprise him. The man was a selfish bastard. Greedy too. Sethmet knew William and Justin had been leaving camp late at night to check sites he hadn’t taken them to yet.

 

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